Marko, what you write
No matter how I try, I can't make my response go where I want it to.
Marko, I meant this appear, not after your comment where it seems to insist on appearing, but after your comment when you say it's ourselves we mourn for.
In that comment of yours, what you write reminds me of a poem by Gerald Manley Hopkins. We read it in my ninth grade classes, as I remember.
to a young child
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By & by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you wíll weep & know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
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I sent money to show my appreciation for your service and the energy you put into this positive. My heart's desire is to walk the steps of Knowledge. In the Light of Creator, I give my thanks for your Being in this time of transition. Salu!
Christer Rudd, Norway